Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1

by Doug Dandridge

  “And what, General,” said Raeder, “do you do when you don’t have a modern war machine to fight these forces the enemy, as you call them, is sure to bring to bear?”

  “Think of the greatest enemy threat to your people produced by the ancient world,” said Taylor. The assembled scientist looked blankly at him and the General chuckled under his breath.

  James knew that the man had to be thinking about how compartmentalized the scientists probably were. He had been a history buff himself, and his thinking was running more to Queen Boudicca and the buzz saw she ran into in 61 AD.

  “Think Tiberius and Germanicus,” he continued. “Think discipline and tactics versus brute strength and raw courage. Consider what we will do to these people as long as we can keep their magic from grinding us to dust.”

  “Brilliant,” said James looking up as all heads turned his way. “You’re thinking Roman Legions aren’t you?”

  “Yes, young man,” said the General with a nod. “You know something of the history?”

  “Yes, sir,” admitted Drake. “Not my specialty, but something I’m familiar with.”

  “And you are?”

  “James Drake, sir,” said Drake, nodding. “And you are going to need the insane as well.”

  “I beg your pardon,” said the General

  Deitricht looked over at Drake, then back at the General and shrugged her shoulders. “James is one of my most promising students. Best ever as far as I can tell at this point. But he does suffer from schizophrenia, and I’m afraid he hasn’t had his meds in several days.”

  “But besides that I am fine, General,” said Drake. “But I have to say I have never been so clear headed in my life.”

  The General gave him one of those looks that Drake had seen so often in his life. The one that said whatever came out of his mouth was not to be trusted.

  “Bring the schizophrenics here, General,” said the young graduate student, trying to place his convictions in his tone. “And the bipolar, and the autistic. Whoever there is that came across with these disorders on Earth. Those will be your wizards.”

  “And why is that, young man?” asked the officer, his eyebrows raised.

  “Because,” said James Drake, his hair rising as if an electric current were running through him, “we are the natural mages who will ward your army.”

  The room appeared to darken as the electric lanterns dimmed. Winds rushed through the air, and the temperature dropped. The young man closed his eyes and the lanterns blazed again and the room became warm.

  “How did you do that?” asked Professor Raeder, staring at the graduate student.

  “It just seems to be a connection I’ve had since I got here,” said Drake, smiling. “I don’t know how it works. But I do know that I can see the energy flowing through this world. And I can tap that energy. I’m not sure what to do with it so far, except for a few manifestations like you saw here tonight.”

  “But I’m sure you can learn,” said the General, slapping the table, a wide smile crossing his face. “Like I said before. It seems like God has sent us what we need. We’ll get as many people of talent as we can find to you. I’ve already heard of some that should be on their way here as we speak. I…”

  Sirens sounded outside the tent and the scientists looked around in alarm. The General motioned to the other soldiers in the tent, who moved to help the scientists up from their seats.

  “We need to move quickly, ladies and gentlemen,” said the General, motioning toward the tent’s entrance.

  “What is going on, General?” asked Professor Deitricht as she shuffled for the tent entrance with a hand on her elbow.

  “We’ll find out in a moment, ma’am,” said the General as they emerged outside.

  * * *

  Outside was a frantic hive of activity, as men and women in uniform, and some in civies, ran to trenches that had been dug around the compound. The officers hustled the scientists along to a section that had overhead cover.

  James looked up as he heard a high pitched cry in the sky. Looked up to see a half dozen small dots wheeling through the air. It took a moment to adjust his eyes to the light and the distance, but when he did he gasped at the size of the swarming reptiles that flew through the sky.

  One of the reptiles flashed, and a small bright dot appeared at its front. A dot that grew swiftly in size to a ball, then a beach ball, then a raging ball of fire that struck the edge of the compound and set tents afire. Most of the personnel on the ground had already ducked for cover, but a couple were caught in the blast as they scrambled, knocked down to burn into charred heaps on the dirt.

  “James,” yelled a voice from the trench. “Get under cover, boy.”

  The graduate student looked over and saw the face of his major professor, Margaret Deitricht, waving for him to come to her. Explosive sounds caught his attention then and he looked around the compound until he saw the armored vehicles sitting in revetments toward the northern edge. The vehicles had elevated their guns upwards and were blazing away on full automatic at the swirling dragons.

  Puffs of smoke appeared high in the sky, as the proximity fuses of the flack detonated close to their targets. Dragons wheeled, and a pair of fireballs descended. One caught a truck and blasted it into pieces that traveled hundreds of feet, while the other torched yet another tent. Then the antiaircraft guns seemed to find the range, or their radars locked on. Blasts of thirty-five millimeter poured from the Gephards, while thirty millimeter bushmaster rounds spewed from Linebacker APCs. Three of the dragons folded up within seconds of rounds intersecting their bodies. One pushed his wings out while staggering through the air, only to fall into another dive as three streams of rounds intersected on his form. The remaining three dragons clawed for altitude, attempting to escape while they could.

  James turned as a whooshing sound came from the south. His sight caught the Roland AA missile as it climbed away from its launching vehicle. The rocket curved upward for a moment, then straightened as it locked onto its target. It accelerated away as its afterburners caught, heading like an arrow for the trailing dragon of the retreating trio. The dragon swerved at the last second as the missile approached. The missile missed to the right, then detonated a dozen feet from the monster as its proximity fuse went for the soft kill. Sharp pieces of shrapnel pierced the monster’s side and sent it into a spin that it barely recovered from, while its mates flew on.

  The monster recovered for a moment, and looked to be flapping hard to regain altitude, when streams of AAA rounds ripped it from the sky.

  And then it was over as fast as it had begun. The remaining two dragons flapped away from the valley, one missed by an AA missile fired at maximum range. Four of the monsters had hit hard around the valley floor and lay in smoking piles of meat. And a dozen humans had paid with their lives for the attack.

  “James,” yelled a voice, and a hand reached out and shook his arm.

  “I wanted to see,” said the student, looking into the face of his mentor. “I never imagined such things. They were monstrous. But they were also fragile.”

  “Does this happen often, General?” asked Deitricht when the office appeared.

  “Second time since we’ve been establishing ourselves here,” said the General. “We were a little more prepared this time.”

  “I’ve heard the maxim that you can’t count on your enemies to be stupid or cowardly,” said Raeder, walking up to the group and watching as a crew of soldiers went about extinguishing the fires.

  “And they can’t count on us behaving that way either,” said Taylor, looking to where a dragon had splashed several hundred meters away. “And we won’t as long as I’m in charge.”

  * * *

  Dirk Winslow looked around the village, which seemed no less magical by the day than it had by night. He was surprised that the Elves lived in trees, much as the sylvan people of myth, legend, books and movies. And just like the presentations he had seen in his world, the trees were enormous, most
of them, alive, and hollowed in places that were used as comfortable dwellings. He and Anni had shared one of those dwellings as the guests of the Conyastaya. There were dwellings in the smaller trees as well, much like tree houses.

  At night the area had been lit up with a soft glow that didn’t seem to come from any device, augmented by several cook fires. He had been surprised that the place wasn’t overrun with biting insects, and had been told that such were forbidden in the village area. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but neither they nor the several hundred Elves that lived in the village were bothered. And the elfin wine had been wonderful, light, flavorful and tasty, as well as strong. So why don’t I have a hangover this morning, thought the hard partying guitar player. There was no accounting for it, unless he believed in the magic that was so apparent in the village.

  “You do well this day,” said the Elf leader who had rescued them the day before, Collussa Killasadra.

  “Very well friend Collussa,” replied Dirk with a smile. No one was trying to kill us and we felt safe for the first time in many days. “We are very grateful to you for your hospitality.”

  “The music you played last night was, interesting,” said the hunter, slanting his head in a signal that Dirk had come to associate with agreement. “Your skill as bards was obvious, even if the music was somewhat hard to understand.”

  Dirk nodded as he remembered the reactions of the Elves to the acoustic set of The Tarantulas. They had seemed to really enjoy some of the music, and stared in confusion at other pieces. And one of their bards had shown Dirk the magic of his own instrument, eliciting feelings that the musician had never associated with music. He had vowed on the spot that he would learn how to do that with his instrument.

  “Today we will show you the way to your own people,” said the Elf. “You may drive your wagons to your friends.”

  “I hate to leave,” said Dirk, his eyes roaming the tree village once again. He noted that there were not many children among the Elves. When he had asked the night before why that was he had been astonished by the answer. Two and a half thousand years of life, he thought as he remembered the teachings of the very open Elves. My God. And the other Elves, the Ellala, live for four thousand. We are just dust motes that flicker in the light and are gone. With that last thought came thoughts of a song he would write. He looked back at the Elf. “We feel so safe here. And it is so dangerous out there.”

  “You will be warded the entire way,” assured the Elf. “If such as those who confronted you yesterday menace again, or worse, we will be there. Just as we are aiding the rest of your people in their journey.”

  “Why are you helping us?” asked Dirk, looking into the green eyes of the man. “You said that it is a risk to your people, that the Ellala of this area would kill any they find aiding us. And just how many of our people are there on this world?”

  “You ask so many questions,” said the Elf with a musical laugh. “I guess I would if I were to find myself on a different world. But as to why. You are the fulfillment of the prophecy. Or should I say that your people are. And we must help you to survive so that we can hope for a better future. And how many? A hundred thousand of your people, two hundred thousand, more? And many more of other peoples. And soldiers of the, Americans I think they are called.”

  Hundreds of thousands, thought Dirk, looking over as Anni approached. Then we can survive here after all. He held his arms open and let Anni come into them, thinking of the future that had opened up to them.

  * * *

  “There are no more dragons to send,” said the frightened officer. “Only two returned from the last strike, and both are injured.”

  “But they have no dragons of their own,” said Archduke Millosa Jakara, glaring at the Imperial officer whose air unit had been ordered to support the noble’s ground campaign. “They don’t even have hawks, and you said that none their flying machines were in the air.”

  “They have ground machines that seem to be specially made for attacking things that are in the air,” said the officer, holding out his hands.

  “And why would they have those?” asked the Archduke.

  “I guess to fight the air weapons on their own world,” said the other man sitting in the room, taking his ease and sipping wine.

  The Archduke glared at the man, a mere count. But the man was the General in charge of the local Imperial garrison, and high in the favor of the Emperor. Which he, at this time, was not.

  “You know of such weapons?” asked Jakara, leaning over the table. “And when were you going to tell me of them?”

  “Oh,” said the General, waving a beringed finger, “as far as we can tell they have no such weapons on this world.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because we captured the pilot of one of those vehicles,” said the general with a smile on his face. “After he ‘punched out’, I believe was his term for it, because his vehicle ran out of fuel and he couldn’t find a place to land.”

  “And what kind of vehicle was it?” asked the Archduke, motioning for a servant to refill his glass. The slender Elf maiden hastened to fulfill the task, and Jakara smiled up at her, his smile widening as he saw the shake in her hand. I will play with this one tonight, he thought. She is already of the proper emotional state.

  “It was a flying machine,” said the General with a shrug. “Much more advanced than the others we have seen. Much faster, much longer ranged, larger weapons. But one major weakness. They need a long clear and solid field to land and take off from.”

  “But, we have no such places,” said the Archduke, sputtering out some wine. “Why would they have such a need?”

  “It would seem that they have places like that all over their world,” said the General with a shrug. “At every moderately sized city, even towns, and of course specialized military fields. They also have roads, you know,” said the General with a wistful expression.

  “We have roads,” said the Archduke, raising an eyebrow.

  “They have roads that are twenty man heights wide,” said the General, “and the vehicles we see crawling along the ground speed five times faster than our swiftest steed.”

  “This flyer seems to have revealed much,” said the Archduke with a smile. “Was he really so forthcoming?”

  “He was not at first,” said the General with a laugh. “He kept talking about something called the Geneva Convention. And he refused to talk when confronted with pain.”

  “So you used a possession on him?” said the Archduke with a smile.

  “Yes we did,” said the General, his smile broadening. “And we sucked him dry of everything he knew. Which was a lot of things that are really of no use to us. And some that are.”

  “Anything that might help us, in the here and now?”

  “There might be a few things,” said the General. “Let us retire to your study where we might discuss your attack tomorrow.”

  “I will send for refreshments,” said the Archduke, standing up and motioning for the servant to tend to their needs. And later on you will tend to my other needs, he thought as the beautiful woman hurried to do his bidding.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “So that’s a small castle?” asked Master Sergeant Paul Baurieth, lying on the turf next to the Dwarven Priest.

  “It is a baron’s castle,” said the Dwarf, giving a nod. “Counts and dukes have much larger castles. Isn’t it the same in your world?”

  “We don’t use castles in my world,” said Baurieth bringing his field glasses to his eyes and scanning the battlements. “Except as museums and such. And we don’t have a lot of use for lords and ladies.”

  “Then yours is truly a fortunate world,” said the Dwarf with a smile.

  “It was fortunate,” said Baurieth, lowering his glasses and looking at the Dwarf. “Until my people went and blew the hell out of it.”

  The Dwarf ducked his head and starting saying some words. Paul didn’t understand them, but he recognized a prayer
when he heard one. In a moment the Dwarf looked up at the man. “I am truly sorry my friend. I have asked for the Goddess to look after the souls of your people who didn’t make it across. And for those who made it across as well.”

  Baurieth nodded his thanks, trying to keep the tears from coming to his eyes. This is not the time or the place, he thought, glancing down at his watch. “It's about time. So you’re sure you can handle this guy’s magic?”

  “As sure as can be for someone who has never actually faced him,” said the Dwarf with a quick smile. “Perhaps you might try and, take him out I think is your phrase is, as soon as possible.”

  “Great,” said Baurieth, bringing the glasses up to his face to look at the castle, then panning up to the heights of the mountain. The stick figures of soldiers were at the top, readying their part of the assault. His radio keyed and he was sure that the others were ready as well.

  “You are so well organized,” said the Dwarf, admiration in his face.

  “We have always done our killing that way,” said Baurieth, looking as the battlements filled with men. “And this doesn’t seem to be the surprise I thought it would be.”

  The Priest mumbled some words, then looked up in the sky. “There,” he said, pointing a soaring hawk. “Those are his eyes. And yes, I would say they are ready for us.”

  “Well,” said Baurieth, when the men walking post on the outer gate both went down with red clouds where their heads had been. “Maybe not exactly this.”

  As soon as the Barrett gunners brought down the two outer sentries they went to work on the men on the wall. After another seven men had fallen the rest seem to have taken the hint and dropped below the crenellations of the castle wall. That protected them from the fire from the fifty caliber sniper rifles, which threw up clouds of rock dust as they hit the stone. It didn’t do much to take the sting out of the sixty millimeter mortars that came falling from the sky. Yells, screams and the occasional body flying through the air told of their effectiveness.